Peter's Christmas Carol
by Daniel Fielder
Summary: When Norman Osborn is visited by the spirit of his old business partner, Adrian Toomes, he must change his ways or be condemned. Yes, this is another Christmas Carol fic.
1. Toomes' Ghost

Another Spidey-Disney mash-up, and this time, a certain industrialist is the hero.

Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Fan.

Disclaimer: Mickey's Christmas Carol belongs to Walt Disney, and Spectacular Spider-Man belongs to Sony and Disney, and the characters from that and any other Marvel character I use belongs to Marvel Comics and Stan Lee.

* * *

 **Peter's Christmas Carol**

Chapter 1: Toomes' Ghost

In New York City, on Christmas Eve, the stingiest man in town, Norman Osborn, walked down the street. There was no Christmas cheer in his heart though. Osborn hated the whole idea of Christmas. As he walked, he passed a homeless man as he outstretched his hand.

"Give a penny for the poor sir." The man said. "Penny for the poor."

"Bah." Osborn said simply before continuing to his counting house, Osborn & Toomes. Osborn never bothered to paint out Toomes' name.

"My partner Adrian Toomes." Osborn said calmly. "Dead seven years today. He was a good businessman. He robbed from the widows and swindled the poor."

Osborn looked at the sign and smirked.

"In his will he left me enough money for his tombstone, and I had him buried at sea." Osborn chuckled to himself.

()()()()()

Inside the store, Osborn's bookman, Peter Parker, was about to put a thing of coal in the fire while Osborn was out when he came in.

"Oh… Uh…" Peter said nervously. "Good morning Mr. Osborn."

"Parker, what are you doing with that piece of coal?!" Osborn asked angrily.

"I was just trying to thaw out the ink, sir." Peter said timidly as he pointed to the ice covered ink quill.

"You used a piece last week!" Osborn snapped as he grabbed the coal and tossed it in a bucket. "Now get on with your work, Parker!"

"Speaking of work Mr. Osborn tomorrow is Christmas, and I was wondering if I could have… Half the day off?"

"Christmas." Osborn spat angrily as he thought. "Mm… Oh, I suppose so, but I'll dock you half a day's pay. Now let's see… I pay you two dollars a day."

"Uh, two dollars and a quarter, sir." Peter corrected.

"Oh right." Osborn said. "I gave you that raise three years ago."

"Yes sir." Peter said. "When I started doing your laundry."

"Alright Parker, get busy while I go over my books, oh and I've got another bundle of shirts for you." Osborn said as he tossed a moderately large laundry bag at Peter.

"Yes sir." Peter said quickly.

Osborn then sat down and went over his notes as a large amount of money sat in front of him.

"Now let's see…" Osborn mused. "One hundred and twelve dollars from Octavious, plus his eighty-percent interest, compounded daily…"

Osborn laughed as he played a little with a few coins.

"Money, money, money."

Then the door opened, and Osborn's nephew and only living relative, Harry came in.

"Merry Christmas!" Harry called out.

"And a merry Christmas to you, Harry." Peter said as he took a break from his books to talk to Harry.

"Bah humbug." Osborn muttered.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Norman!" Harry called out with a smile.

"What's so merry about it?" Norman asked moodily. "I'll tell you what Christmas is, it's just another work day, and any jackanapes who thinks else should be boiled in his own pudding!"

"Ew." Harry remarked.

"But sir Christmas is a time for giving." Peter said quickly. "A time to be with one's family."

"I say 'Bah humbug.'" Osborn said stubbornly.

"I don't care!" Harry called out. "I say 'Merry Christmas!'"

"Well said Harry!" Peter called out as he applauded.

"Parker, what are you doing?!" Osborn asked angrily.

"Uh…" Peter said nervously as he stopped clapping. "Just trying to keep my hands warm, sir."

"And what are you doing here, Nephew?" Osborn asked testily.

"I've come to give you a reef and invite you to Christmas dinner." Harry said as he handed Osborn the reef.

"Well…" Norman said with a smile. "I suppose you're going to have plump goose with chestnut dressing?"

"Yup." Harry confirmed.

"And will you have plum pudding and lemon sauce?" Osborn continued.

"Oh yeah!" Harry said with a widening smile.

"And spiced sugar cakes with candied fruit?" Osborn finished.

"Yes!" Harry said excitedly. "Yes! Will you come?"

"Are you insane?" Osborn snapped. "You know I can't eat that stuff, now get out!"

"Alright." Harry said as he put the reef on the door. "Merry Christmas!"

"And a bah humbug to you!" Osborn shouted back, but Harry had already left.

"That Harry." Peter said with a chuckle. "Always so full of kindness."

"Yeah." Osborn said. "He always was a little peculiar." The door opened again. "And stubborn!"

Instead of Harry, a very well built man was there with a man with black hair with large sideburns walked in.

"Oh, customers." Osborn said with an excited smile. "I'll handle this, Parker."

Osborn then walked up to the two.

"Yes, what can I do for you two gentlemen?" Osborn asked.

"Sir, I'm Hank McCoy, and this is my associate, Logan." Mr. McCoy said. "We are soliciting funds for the impudent and destitute."

"For the what?" Osborn asked.

"We're collecting money for the poor." Logan translated.

"Oh…" Osborn said. "Well, you do realize that if you give money to the poor, they won't be poor anymore."

"Well that's true." Logan said.

"And if they're not poor anymore, then you won't have to raise money for them anymore." Osborn went on, putting on a concerned front.

"Well, I suppose." Mr. McCoy admitted.

"And if you don't have to raise money for them anymore, then you would be out of a job." Osborn said as he opened the door, and the two walked out. "Oh please gentlemen, don't ask me to put you out of a job, not on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, we'd never do that, Mr. Osborn." Mr. McCoy said.

"Well then," Osborn finished, going back to his normal manner at once. "I suggest you give this to the poor and be gone!"

He tossed the wreath Harry had given him at Logan who caught it reflexively and slammed the door in their faces.

"What's this world coming to, Parker?" Osborn asked as Peter turned to listen. "You work all your life to get money, and people want you to give it away."

()()()()()

As the day came to its end, Peter used a nearby lamp to keep himself warm, which wasn't too easy. He then glanced over at the clock and smiled when he saw that it was only fifteen seconds until quitting time. Finishing up his last sentence, he closed the book and got ready to head home.

"Two minutes fast." Osborn remarked as Peter gulped and was about to get back to work when Osborn stopped him. "Eh, never mind those two minutes. You can go now."

"Thank you, sir!" Peter said as he hopped down. "You're so kind-"

"Never mind the mushy stuff!" Osborn shouted. "Just go, but be here all the earlier the next afternoon!"

"I will!" Peter said excitedly. "I will sir, and a bah hum- I mean, a merry Christmas to you sir!"

Peter then picked up the bag of Osborn's shirts and walked off as all Osborn said in reply was, "Bah."

()()()()()

At nine at night, Osborn closed up the counting house and walked off to his house, which had once belonged to Toomes. As Osborn unlocked the door, he looked at the knocker just as it turned into Adrian Toomes' face. With the long pupils like a birds, and the beak-like nose.

"Osborn…" Toomes said in an eerie voice.

"Adrian Toomes?" Osborn asked in shock. "No, that can't be!"

Thinking he was just wearied from a good day's work, he touched the knocker's nose, and exclaimed in a way that frightened Osborn so badly, he ran into the house. After catching his breath, he put what had happened off as stress with all the fools he had to deal with that day. He then began to walk upstairs when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He turned, but no one was there. He went on, and again he heard the footsteps. He turned around again, but still no one was there. He looked down from the stairway, but nothing was there either. He walked on when he heard the footsteps for a third time and turned to see a shadow of a bald man with the beak-like nose of Toomes. Osborn shouted in shock and terror and rushed to his living room, bolting the door and hiding in his seat.

"Norman Osborn…" Toomes' voice called out from the other side of the door.

"GO AWAY!" Osborn shouted as a blue-white, transparent version of Adrian Toomes walked in. Aside from his usually tuxedo, Toomes also wore a long chain with cash boxes and safes attached to it.

"Norman Osbor-AHH!" Toomes explained as he tripped on a lose rug and ended up landing right next to his chair.

"A bit more hazardous here than I remember." Toomes said calmly as he got up and looked at Osborn, apparently noticing a look of terror.

"Osborn, don't you recognize me?" Toomes asked. "In life I was your partner, Adrian Toomes."

Osborn hadn't wanted to believe it, but looking at Toomes' face, he was forced to, and that actually helped to calm him down a little.

"Toomes, it is you." Osborn said as his eyes widened.

"Norman," Toomes said as he stood straight up. "Remember when I was alive, I robbed the widows and swindled the poor?"

"Yes, and all on the same day." Osborn said with a smile at the memories. "Oh, you had class Adrian."

"Yup." Toomes said with a smug look before shaking his head. "Wait, no! No! I was wrong, and so as punishment, I'm forced to carry these chains for eternity! … Maybe even longer. With no hope. I'm doomed! Doomed!"

Toomes then turned his bird-like face to Osborn.

"And the same thing will happen to you, Norman Osborn."

"No!" Osborn gasped in fear as he recoiled from the chains that were close by his chair. "No it can't! It mustn't! Help me, Adrian!"

"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits." Toomes informed Osborn. "Listen to them, and do what they say, or your chains will be heavier than mine."

Osborn agreed nervously as he turned nervously around.

"Farewell Norman…" Toomes called out as he walked back, making sure to be mindful of the rug. "Farewell . . ."

"Toomes!" Osborn called out as he remembered something about the stairway. "Watch out for that first-"

There were several loud screams and grunts as Adrian Toomes' ghost fell down the stairs.

"Step." Osborn finished before going off to bed.

* * *

Spooky, huh?


	2. The First of the Spirits

Chapter Two: The First of the Spirits

That night, Osborn searched his room all over with a candle before putting it on the table.

"Spirits." He scoffed. He'd obviously been stressed as he got into bed and blew out his candle. "Humbug!"

Osborn then went to sleep without undressing.

()()()()()

As Osborn slept, an old man walked up. His hair was white, and he was dressed in a red long sleeved shirt with a blue vest and jeans. He snapped his fingers, and the fire came on. He then rang the bell on the clock, which read two o'clock, but Osborn continued sleeping.

"Oh boy." The old man groaned. He rang the bell again, and Osborn got up.

"Oh, what?" Osborn asked.

"Well it's about time." The old man said. "Haven't got all night, you know."

"Who… Who are you?" Osborn asked in surprise.

"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past." The old man said. "You can call me Ben for short."

"I would think someone like you would look a little younger." Osborn observed.

"Well Osborn, if men were aged by kindness, you'd be no older than a new-born babe." Ben retorted calmly.

"Kindness is of little use in this world." Osborn said as he prepared to go back to sleep.

"You didn't always think so." Ben said. "Come on, Osborn, it's time to go."

"Then go." Osborn said agitatedly when Ben walked to a window, and opened it.

"Ben!" Osborn called out in alarm. "What are you doing?!"

"We're going to visit your past." Ben explained.

"I'm not going out there." Osborn countered. "I'll fall."

"Take my hand, and you'll be lifted." Ben said, as Osborn apprehensively took Ben's hand, and they were flying above London in an instant, having a wild ride.

()()()()()

They stopped at a small shop.

"Ben, I think I know this place." Osborn mused. "Yes! It's old Robbie Robertson's! I couldn't have worked for a kinder man."

Inside the shop, Robbie, alive again, was dancing with his wife and several others.

"Why it's old Robertson himself!" Osborn exclaimed. "And all of my very dearest friends!"

Osborn then turned to a shy boy who looked very much like his nephew Harry.

"And that shy boy in the corner, that's me." Osborn remarked.

"Yes." Ben said. "Before you became a miserable miser consumed by greed."

"Well nobody's perfect." Osborn defended before looking at a blond girl with blue eyes. "There she is. There's lovely Gwen."

()()()()()

Gwen walked up to the younger Norman.

"Norman?" Gwen asked. "Norman."

"Yes, Gwen?" Norman asked nervously as Gwen pulled him under the mistletoe.

"My eyes are closed, my lips are puckered, and I'm standing under the mistletoe." Gwen said.

"You're also standing on my foot." Norman pointed out before Gwen chuckled, and they began dancing with everybody as Norman smiled. The dance ended with Gwen kissing Norman's cheek, and his mind went to mush.

()()()()()

"Oh, I remember how much I was in love with her." Osborn said nostalgically when there was a sudden wind, and the entire area became darkened.

"In ten years' time, you learned to love something else." Ben said as Osborn looked around and found himself in a very familiar place.

"It's my counting house!" Osborn said in surprise.

"Yes." Ben said. "You had just formed your partnership with Toomes. Your business was new, but your ways were set."

"Oh, Ben!" Osborn said as he suddenly remembered the day. "Spare me the rest!"

"You have to drain the cup to the dregs for this trip to do good." Ben said. "Recall how you drove love from your heart and replaced it with the worship of money."

()()()()()

"Nine-thousand four-hundred and forty two." Norman said as he put a coin on top of a large pile from several foreclosures and debt payments. "Nine-thou-"

"Norman?" Gwen asked from behind the pile of coins.

"Yes, what is it?" Norman asked.

"For years I've had the honeymoon cottage Norman." Gwen said. "I've been waiting for you to keep your promise to marry me. Now I must know, have you made your decision?"

"I have!" Norman said finally as he pulled out the mortgage paper of the cottage. "Your last payment on the cottage was an hour late! I'm foreclosing the mortgage!"

()()()()()

Osborn watched Gwen burst into tears and walk away.

 _Go after her you young fool!_ Osborn called out angrily at his past self.

"You loved your money more than that precious girl, and you lost her forever." Ben reminded him as a look of anger crossed Gwen's face as she closed the door, causing the pile of gold to crash down on the table.

"Please spirit." Osborn moaned. "I can no longer bare these memories. Take me home."

"Remember Osborn." Ben said as the scene, and Ben, was beginning to fade away. "You fashioned these memories yourself…"

* * *

Wow. Talk about a dumb choice, huh?


	3. The Second of the Spirits

Chapter Three: The Second of the Spirits

Back on Osborn's own bed, he still brooded about his mistakes.

"Why was I so foolish?" Osborn asked himself. "Why? Why?"

Suddenly, a light shone in through his curtains, and he looked on in surprise.

"What's this?" Osborn asked as he looked through the curtains to see a giant in a green and blue striped shirt.

"Fee." The giant began. "Fi, fo fum! I smell." The giant said before shaking his head. "I mean, I smell…"

Osborn quickly closed the curtains, and when he opened them again, an eye as big as his bedroom door appeared.

"A stingy little Englishmen." The giant finished as he reached in and grabbed Osborn.

"At least I think I do." The giant said, taking a good whiff of Osborn. "Yup, I do."

"Please, let me go!" Osborn called out in fear. "Don't eat me!"

"Why would the Ghost of Christmas Present, that's me, you can call me Flint, eat a distasteful little miser like you, especially when there are so many good things to enjoy in life."

The giant set Osborn down, and he then noticed that the room was full of food.

"Oh…" Osborn said in awe. "Mince pies. Turkeys. Suckling pig."

"And don't forget the chocolate pot roast!" Flint said excitedly. "With pastacia- With pistasimo- With Smismishna- With yogurt."

"But where did all this come from?" Osborn asked.

"From the heart, Osborn." Flint explained. "It's the food of generosity which you have long denied your fellow man."

"Generosity?!" Osborn asked angrily. "Nobody's ever shown me generosity!"

"You've never given them reason to." Flint explained calmly. "And yet, there are those who still find enough warmth in their hearts even for the likes of you."

"No acquaintance of mine." Osborn said coldly. "I assure you."

"Oh, you'll see." Flint said as he put Osborn in a shirt pocket, lifted up Osborn's roof and walked out, using a lamppost as a flash light to find the right house.

()()()()()

Eventually, Flint stopped and showed Osborn an old, extremely modest shack.

"Here we are." Flint said calmly.

"Why did you bring me to this old shack?" Osborn asked.

"This is the home of your overworked, underpaid employee, Peter Parker." Flint said, pushing Osborn up close to the window.

Osborn looked in the window and found a red-haired woman, who could only be Parker's wife, cooking an extremely small bird.

"What's she cooking, a canary?" Osborn asked rhetorically. "Surely they have more food than that. Look on the fire."

"That's your laundry." Flint pointed out as they looked at a bubbling pot.

()()()()()

Inside the Parker home, Peter's twin middle children, Richard and Mary, were trying to get at their presents, only to be stopped by his oldest daughter, May. She looked perfectly like her mother, but with short brown hair.

"Oh, I don't think so." May said with a smile as she picked the two eight-year-olds up.

"Now kids, we've gotta wait for Little Benjy." Peter said calmly.

"Daddy." Peter's youngest son, a blond four-year-old named Benjamin, said. "I'm coming, Daddy."

Peter walked up quickly to his son, hobbling down the steps on his cane, as Peter picked him up.

"Hey little buddy." Peter said as he set Benjy down while May helped Peter's wife, Mary Jane, set Richard and Mary down as well.

"Wow, look at all the wonderful things to eat!" Benjy said excitedly. "We must thank Mr. Osborn."

"Right." Peter said kindly. "To my employer, Mr. Osborn, the founder of the feast."

"'Feast' indeed." Mary Jane said sadly, so only Peter could hear. "With a goose barely bigger than a canary."

"Come on MJ, it's Christmas." Peter said kindly.

"Oh alright." Mary Jane said. "To Mr. Osborn."

Benjy smiled. Then, seeing that his father only had a little bit of goose, he offered Peter his piece, but Peter kindly refused and hugged his son.

()()()()()

"Tell me, Flint." Osborn said with a pain in his heart, he'd never felt before. "What's wrong with that kind boy?"

"Much, I'm afraid." Flint said. "If these shadows remain unchanged, all I can see is an empty chair where Little Benjy Parker once sat and a little clutch without an owner."

"Then that means…" Osborn said weakly. "Ben will…"

Osborn turned around, and Flint had completely disappeared.

"Flint, where are you?!" Osborn called out. "Don't go! You must tell me about Ben! Don't go!"

Suddenly, an odd black fog covered his vision as Osborn coughed and when the fog cleared, he found himself in a graveyard.

"How did I-?" Osborn began before looking up and his eyes widened in fear. "Who… Who are you?"

* * *

Aw, poor Ben.


	4. The Last of the Spirits

Chapter Four: The Last of the Spirits

The figure that Osborn saw was dressed all in black, and only two large white eyes could be seen. The figure was muscular, and stood over Osborn, draping him in the figure's shadow.

"Are you the ghost of Christmas Future?" Osborn asked.

The spirit nodded its head.

"Please speak to me." Osborn requested. "What will happen to Benjy Parker?"

The spirit pointed several feet away where the Parker family was. Mary Jane was standing there solemnly as she comforted her two children, and May stood there as well with tears streaming down her face. As they walked off, Peter stayed, holding the little crutch Benjy had used, clutching it tight, and a tear of his own falling down his face. He then set it near the tombstone as Osborn understood what had happened.

"Oh no, dear heaven let it not be." Osborn said as he felt for his poor clerk. "Spirit, I didn't mean for this to happen. Tell me these events can still be changed."

Suddenly, he heard two men laughing. One had dark brown hair and very young and moderately muscular while the other had black hair, a rather plain face and middle-aged.

"I've never seen a funeral like this before." The man with dark brown hair said.

"Yeah." His friend said. "No mourners. No friends to bid him farewell."

"Oh well." The first man said. "Let's rest a minute before we fill it in. He's not going anywhere."

They walked off as Osborn at the spirit approached the grave.

"Whose lonely grave is this?" Osborn asked nervously as the spirit pointed down, and Osborn read on the tombstone his own name, "Norman Osborn."

Osborn then looked up to see that a mouth had appeared on the spirit. A mouth filled with sharp teeth that could rend through flesh and a long slimy tongue poking out.

"Why yours, Norman." The spirit said with a wicked grin. "The richest man in the cemetery!"

The spirit pushed Osborn in as he grabbed a tree root for dear life as the spirit only laughed. When Osborn looked down, the coffin opened, and red hot fire was spilling out of it.

"Oh no!" Osborn called out. "No!"

Osborn suddenly lost his grip on the root and fell into the coffin while the spirit laughed, and Osborn screamed, "I'll change! I'LL CHANGE…!"

Then, all was darkness.

* * *

Well that was short sweet, and terrifying.


	5. The End of It

Chapter Five: The End of It

Osborn was on a hard surface as he struggled with a dark object covering him.

"Spirit!" Osborn shouted out. "Spirit, let me out! I'll… Huh?"

Osborn opened his eyes and saw that he was on the floor of his own room, with the sun shining in.

"Why I'm back in my own room." Osborn said in surprise. He then looked outside and gasped in honest surprise. "Christmas morning! I haven't missed it! The spirits have given me another chance!"

Osborn quickly changed into another suit.

"I know just what I'll do!" Osborn said with a smile in his eyes. "They'll be so surprised."

()()()()()

Logan and Hank were looking at children play when a very familiar figure appeared.

"Merry Christmas to one and all!" Osborn cried out as he walked up. "Hello, gentlemen. I'm sorry about what happened; allow me to make it up to you with this."

Osborn handed Logan a bag of two hundred dollars.

"Two hundred dollars?" Hank said in awe.

"Not a penny less." Osborn said with a smile. "I hope to see you again next year. Merry Christmas."

"Thanks pal." Logan said. "And a very merry Christmas to you too."

()()()()()

All that day, Osborn said "Merry Christmas" to everyone he saw, and some were shocked while others smiled and said it back. On the road, Osborn ran into Harry and his wife, Liz.

"Ah, Harry." Osborn said with a smile.

"Uncle Norman?" Harry asked blankly.

"I'm looking forward to that wonderful meal of yours." Osborn went on as his heart felt ten sizes bigger seeing the look of surprise and joy on Harry's face.

"You mean you're coming?!" Harry asked.

"Of course." Osborn went on. "You know how much I love candied fruits with spiced sugar cakes. I'll be over promptly at two. Keep it piping hot, and I'm looking forward to meeting you too, dear."

"I will Uncle Norman!" Harry called out. "And a very merry Christmas to you!"

"That's your uncle who was so moody?" Liz asked.

"I guess he had a change of heart." Harry said with a smile.

()()()()()

"Merry Christmas, and keep the change." Osborn said as he gave the clerk the payment for his bundle and walked out as three little children passed by, playing.

"Wonderful lads." Osborn said kindly. "And now for Parker."

Osborn arrived at Peter's house and knocked on the door, struggling to keep the stern face he'd had the previous day. Peter opened the door and starred.

"Why Mr. Osborn!" Peter said in surprise. "Merry Christmas. Won't you come in?"

Osborn entered and walked inside. The place was just like it was when he visited the previous night, save the fact that the table had been cleaned up.

"Merry Christmas." Osborn grunted. "I've got another bundle for you."

"But sir, it's Christmas day." Peter said.

"Christmas." Osborn went on. "Just another excuse for being lazy. And another thing, Parker. I've had enough of this half-day off stuff! You leave me no alternative but to give you-"

"Toys!" Benjy called out as he opened the bundle and found the toys Osborn had bought for Benjy, and his older siblings.

"Yes toys." Osborn said. "No, no, no. I mean to say, I'm giving you a raise and making you my partner."

"A partner?!" Peter said excitedly as Mary Jane pulled out the biggest goose Osborn could find, and they all starred at it. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Osborn."

"Merry Christmas, Peter." Osborn said as he lifted Benjy, holding a teddy bear, up.

"And God bless us, everyone." Benjy observed.

Richard and Mary then played with their new toys next to Osborn as he sat in a rocking chair while Peter, Mary Jane, and May watched on happily. This was indeed the first of many merry Christmases with Norman Osborn and Benjy, who with Osborn's help got better.

* * *

Hooray Osborn!


End file.
